When a Storm Brews
by xXRetrobotXx
Summary: A vorns-old signal from First Moon has the autobot base in a flurry. Prowl is only vaguely interested in it himself, until an old friend is discovered in the wreckage. Eventual Prowl x OC. (Rewrite of "There's Somebot for Everybot.")


**A/N: Long time, no see! I finally came back to this site, and I've decided to re-write my old series, "There's Somebot for Everybot." I can't guarantee updates, but hopefully my writing style has improved and the characters won't be so OOC this time! :) And I'm replacing Silvermoon in this story with a mech OC named Stormburst, who's fairly different than Silvermoon was.  
**

 **.:Blah.:. = Comm. Link**

 _Blah._ **= Thoughts**

* * *

The solar cycle had been a long one, that much was undeniable. The usually-logical Second-in-Command of the Autobot Army, Prowl, would normally scoff and roll his optics, claiming that it was all in one's processor, and the solar cycle couldn't be any longer or shorter than it really was. But for once, he would believe that it had been stretched out past its usual boundaries.

The Twin Terrors had put off another prank, resulting in them in the brig and more datawork for him to do. The Twins Minor had attempted to finish said prank and been thrown in the brig as well, only adding to the datawork. An unexpected load of datapads had come in for him to look over, piling up on his already-filled desk. And on top of it all, the ever-paranoid head of security, Red Alert, had been pestering him for the past three groons about a downed ship sending a distress signal from First Moon.

 _Oh, for the love of Primus!_ He vented heavily.

 **.:Cross reference the charts of both inbound and outbound ships again. We've no authorization to interfere if it is simply a cargo ship.:. -Prowl**

He only needed to wait a nano-klik before a reply was sent over the private communications link.

 **.:I've _triple_ -checked, Prowl. This ship's signature is nowhere in the database.:. -Red Alert**

That threw the former Enforcer for a loop. His HUD pinged again, signaling a data burst from Red Alert. Setting aside the datapad he'd been attempting to work on, Prowl transferred the data burst to his terminal and opened it.

True enough, there was no match when he ran the ship's serial number against any who had logged a course, both in and outbound. He shuttered his optics for a moment, running the probabilities of it being a decepticon trap. Curious, he reached out a digit and tapped on the signal, enlarging it. Waves of data rolled across the screen, and the terminal beeped, highlighting a majority of the code red. The codes of the signal were not even close to modern regulation. They also lacked any sort of affiliate status, which threw up red flags in Prowl's mind almost immediately.

 _Why has this signal not come up before?_ Prowl wondered. He backed out of the signal's coding and went to a map of First Moon. A blinking red dot with a line of Cybertronian glyphs next to it indicated where the ship had crashed. It was right over a section that was always covered in a fine, white powdery snow. First Moon was the only to have an atmosphere capable of sustaining snow out of Cybertron and its two moons, and from previous autobot missions to alien planets, Prowl knew it could mask signals and transmissions very well.

 _That means it could very well be a crash from before the war._

 **.:Prowl to Prime.:.** Prowl said, opening up a private comm. link.

 **.:What is it, Prowl?.:. -Optimus Prime**

 **.:The signal from the crash on First Moon was being blocked by the snow. But I have reason to believe that the crash is vorns old. Pre-dating the war, even.:. -Prowl**

Optimus was silent for a moment, then replied **.:Explain.:. -Optimus Prime**

Rather than repeating his findings, Prowl sent him a data burst, and the link went quiet. It was a breem before the Prime replied, and by then Prowl had finished the data Red Alert had interrupted and picked up another.

 **.:Come to the Command Deck. There will be a conference concerning this, and what actions we will take.:. -Optimus Prime**

He withdrew without waiting for a response. Prowl paused, one digit hovering above the screen of his latest datapad. He'd spent too much time on the signal as it was, and he was loathe to part with his work that would undoubtedly continue to pile up even in his absence. But Prime would be expecting him, so he set down the data and stood up.

At Command, the large table was already seating a majority of the officers. Jazz, Third-In-Command, had his pedes on the table and was bobbing his head to a song only he could hear. Ratchet and Ironhide, Chief Medical Officer and Weapons Master, respectively, were engaged in a quiet conversation. Red Alert was looking back and forth from the door and those assembled. The Head Scientist, Perceptor, was trying to explain something to Ultra Magnus, the Fourth-In-Command. After Prowl took his seat, Kup, the unofficial Fifth-In-Command and Head of Military Training wandered in, chewing on the sparkplug that could usually be found between his lipplates and grumbling.

"What's goin' on, Prime?" the old warmonger grumbled, claiming the empty seat next to Prowl. Anybot could tell he'd been busy with other matters.

Optimus glanced between Red Alert and Prowl before he started talking. "Earlier this cycle, a distress signal was detected on First Moon. The several attempts to contact the ship have failed, and after reviewing the signal's coding, we have reason to believe that this wreckage pre-dates the war."

Silence reigned for a nano-klik before several bots started talking at once.

"This is most illogical," Perceptor claimed.

"Is it a friendly?" Ironhide asked gruffly.

"Are we gonna check it out?" Jazz grinned, optics flashing.

"Silence!" Optimus said in reply, making everybot mute their mouthplates and turn their optics back to him. "Thank you. Since this ship has been buried since the beginning of the war, a small recon team will go to recover whatever they can and deactivate the distress beacon. It would be best to reach the ship before the decepticons do."

"Those slagging 'cons probably can't wait to get their greasy servos on more energon," Ironhide muttered, earning several agreeing nods from the other bots around the table.

"Who's goin' on this mission?" Jazz asked.

"That depends on how soon we can get a ship out," the Prime replied. "Perceptor, get the Elite Guard on Teletraan One and get a ship scheduled to leave as soon as possible, logged with a small crew. Four, at the most."

Perceptor nodded and left the room.

"And if it's a decepticon trap?" Red Alert interjected, wringing his servos together nervously.

"Then we'll deal with it," Ironhide replied, standing up. "Allow me tah go, Prime."

Optimus nodded once, and then at Jazz when the silver mech volunteered. "Kup, will you accompany them?" The end of his sentence was upturned in a question, but Prowl could read the command hidden within. Kup harrumphed and chewed on his sparkplug, nodding.

Then Optimus turned to Ratchet, who tsked before anything could be said, shaking his helm. "No, no, no. I'm much to busy to be making trips to First Moon. My assistant, Electrostatic Jolt, can go instead."

The Prime rose an optic ridge humorously, but complied with a nod. The group dispersed after that, leaving at different paces. Jazz walked up to Prowl before the former Enforcer could escape, though, with a slag-eating grin on his faceplates.

"Betcha I can bring a few snowballs back, let ya get even with the twins for their scrap earlier?"

Prowl rolled his optics. "Don't even think about it, Jazz. That will just give them ideas, and the last thing they need is more of those."

The saboteur shrugged and walked away, offering a lazy salute and a, "Later, Prowler."

Prowl excused himself then and made his way back to his office, not particularly looking forward to the number of datas awaiting him.

* * *

First Moon was high in the sky, and Second Moon was peeking up over the horizon, starting the second lunar cycle of the night. Not that Prowl realized this. He was still olfactory-sensor deep in datapads, though he'd made a sizable dent in the stack that needed completion. He vented, setting down another finished data and checking his chronometer. He had to shutter his optics in slight surprise at the time.

He'd worked right through the technical end of his shift, though datawork heeded no scheduling. Usually, Jazz would march in with a cube of fresh energon in servo, stating that the mech worked too hard and needed to let loose a little if he'd gone any longer than two goons over his "shift," but then Prowl remembered that Jazz was currently off-world, leaving the SIC to fetch his own, late-night energon.

The officer's comm. link pinged, and Prowl's optics dimmed as he tuned in. **.:The recon team is en-route to base, with resources and one survivor in tow.:. -Optimus Prime**

Prowl gave a mental nod, not bothering with a response when the Prime's tone made it clear that none were expected. The SIC stood up, stretching minutely and fishing a cube of energon out of his emergency stash, not quite in the mood for a jaunt across the base. He hadn't realized how much he'd appreciated Jazz bringing him fuel before now.

He eyed the berth along the opposite wall, knowing he needed to get some recharge sooner rather than later. Before he could bring himself to power down for the cycle, though, his HUD pinged with an incoming message on his personal comm. link.

 **.:Prowler, yah might wanna meet us in the medbay when we get back. Ah think yeh'll like our little discovery.:. -Jazz**

 **.:What is that supposed to mean?:.** - **Prowl**

 **.:Ah ain't sayin' nothin'. Don't wanna spoil the surp'ise.:. -Jazz**

Prowl cut the link off before he vented, saving Jazz from hearing the noise. A quick link-up to Teletraan One provided him with an estimated time when the shuttle would land, and the SIC knew he wouldn't be getting to berth for another groon or so. After all, curiosity killed the cybercat.

Ten breems later, he approached the medical bay, hearing the sounds of activity within long before he could see its doors. The medbay was usually a place of activity all hours of the cycle, but this seemed a bit louder than usual for being the second lunar cycle. The double doors slid open to admit him, and what he saw nearly made him reset his optics.

Resting on a bed and barely visible between Ratchet and Jolt lay the still form of a familiar, icy white frame, still obviously half-frozen in an odd position. The once-bright gold optics were void of any light, but aside from that, nothing had changed, making Prowl wonder if he'd suddenly stepped back in time. Jazz stepping up next to him and poking him with a digit shattered that illusion, though.

"Is that...?" Prowl asked, optics bright and faceplates painted with confusion.

"Yup," Jazz replied simply, with a huge grin. "We found Stormburst, Prowler!"

The medbay echoed with the sounds of Prowl's frame hitting the floor as his processors glitched and shut down.

* * *

 **Glossary**

 **Nano-Klik= Cybertronian Second**

 **Klik= Cybertronian "moment" equal to 1.2 Earth minutes**

 **Breem= Cybertronian Minute (8.3 Earth minutes)**

 **Groon= Cybertronian Hour**

 **Solar Cycle= Cybertronian time when sun makes its round across the sky**

 **Orn= Cybertronian Day (2 Earth Weeks)**

 **Quartex= Cybertronian Month**

 **Vorn= Cybertronian Year (83 Earth Years)**


End file.
